“What are you talking about?” Temper asked, followed by a nervous giggle. “Who is this she and he you’re talking about? Hell, who are you?”
“I’ll tell you everything once we get out of here. We have help. I did my research, and when we get to him, we both will be safe.” He begged with his eyes more than his words.
“I’m not going anywhere with you. You haven’t told me anything, and I don’t even know who you are.”
“She made Keith kill Tyger with the belt Capone sent him so Capone would know that it was Keith who did it.”
“What belt? Capone sent Keith a belt? What are you talking about?”
“Damn, you don’t listen to shit like everybody says about you. Capone tried to reach out to his little brother Keith a while back. He sent him an engraved belt that said, ‘A hard head makes for a soft ass. Are you done being hardheaded, old man?’ Keith didn’t respond, not because he didn’t want to, but because he couldn’t. Your foster mother, or whoever she was to you in Las Vegas, had already been killed, and her plan was in motion. It was too late to rekindle shit, or at least that’s what my granddaddy told me. He called my godfather from my phone last night, but he didn’t answer. When he was done leaving his message, he told me her plan. At first, it was just to put you through hell like you did her and then kill you, but when she found out about your money, her plan changed, and then everyone who had ever saved you from one of her attacks became her pawn. But Granddaddy told me where to find help and then put the pistol in his mouth.”
Nervously she asked, “Can you please repeat it all, but this time can you name the people you’re talking about?” She paused and stared deeply into his face and saw herself. Nervously she mumbled, “Are you Truth? Are you my—” Her racing heart cut her off as tears formed in her eyes.
“Yes, my name is Truth, but from what I heard, you didn’t want a son.”
He lowered his head as the text message alert went off on her phone. It was a message from Matthew telling her to hurry up.
“I still can’t believe she named you Truth. You’re so handsome,” she said through sniffles.
“Naw, Granny said you named me Truth, and she honored the request, but this ain’t the time for that. I’m eighteen years old, and that family shit ain’t never worked for me. All I ever had was Grandpa Keith and my godfather Julio. One is dead because of her, and the other is missing. I was a kid when most of this shit happened, but Granddaddy told me that she said Tyger had to go because she always saved you. First Tyger, then my granddaddy, then you, and once I inherited your bread, then me.”
“Who is she, Truth?”
The energy in his face disappeared as a gun cocked and pressed against her temple.
“Truth, why haven’t you been answering my calls, boy? You had me worried sick about you,” a familiar voice said.
“Kei’Lani?” Temper asked, seeing the shadow growing larger on the ground as the person neared. “But I thought you were dead.”
“How did you think that? Kei-Kei might have died, but Kei’Lani will live forever.” She snatched Temper up by her ponytail, forcing her to face her as she pointed at her heart. “My daughter will live forever in my heart.”
Bridget, no more than 57 years old, stood in front of Temper as the older, more beautiful clone of her deceased daughter, Kei’Lani, minus the harshness the street life and illness had caused her daughter. She looked tired, but the thought of getting revenge gave her a false sense of energy that had allowed her to keep going all these years. Her hair had yet to be touched by gray, though you would have assumed the stress that life had planted her in would have her mirroring a snowflake. Her body looked like she had been training with MMA stars through the fitted, strapless African-print dress she was wearing. With her hand still locked on Temper’s hair, she turned to her grandson.
“I went through all of that trouble to plant those pills myself. I even risked being seen on these fucking cameras, and you scoop them up to save a mother who ain’t never mothered you. Is that how you do me, grandson?”
“You’re not my grandmother. You killed my grandmother. My granddaddy told me.”
“Cancer killed your grandmother. That’s what it reads on her death certificate.”
“Yeah, but you’re the bitch who switched all her cancer medicine out with over-the-counter medicine.”
Bridget stepped up and slapped him with her free hand as the guy she had with her reached his gun past Temper’s head to point it at Truth.
“Don’t you ever bite the hand that feeds you. I understand your granddaddy killing himself hurt you, but I’m still your grandmother and the woman who raised you. I thought they said the other bitch you called granny was a nurse. It wouldn’t be my fault if she ignored pharmacology.”
She looked back at Temper in time to see her trying to text Matthew back. “Still a sneaky-ass snake, I see,” she said, taking the phone. As she typed, she read off what she wrote. “‘LOL, I’m coming, just making sure I have everything. I’ll be out in less than ten minutes.’” She hit send, and immediately Matthew sent a text back. She giggled as she read it. “‘Make it five. I’m coming in after that.’”
She didn’t bother replying. She powered off the phone and handed it to Truth. “Will you do Granny a favor, baby, and take the battery out of her phone and leave it on her desk on our way out? Oh, and for laughs, leave a little note close by that says, ‘I have my mama.’ That should make for good press. I guess we should go ahead and move this reunion to somewhere more nostalgic.”
Truth did as he was told at gunpoint, but Temper didn’t get a chance to see it as something tight was placed over her head and face.
“Now show us how to get out through the kitchen. If you try anything on our way to the car, you’re both dead.”
* * *
Out of respect for her privacy and the tie he knew she had to the museum because of Tyger, Matthew extended his five minutes to fifteen. It gave him time to check in with his team for updates. He wasn’t expecting much. They were there to solve Isabel’s murder, and with her killer known and dead, they didn’t give a shit about Temper, seeing that she was the cause of it.
“There’s still no sign of Julio, and being honest with you, we are about thirty minutes outside of Vegas about to eat. That California shit has nothing to do with us, Matthew, and everything to do with Capone. It’s going to get worse before it gets better. I know you loved Isabel. That secret relationship shit y’all thought y’all had was only a secret to those not paying attention, but Temper wasn’t her daughter.”
“Watch your words,” Matthew snapped.
“I’d rather not. You need to hear them. From the moment we caught that girl at the Greyhound, I could feel this deadly feeling about her. My grandmother, my dad’s mom, would say that if you see an owl, someone around you will do you harm. Call me superstitious if you want to, but I saw one as you drove to the drop-off. An owl in fucking Vegas just staring at me as we rode by with Temper in the back. I saw another owl outside the crime scene, and I won’t allow there to be a third. She’s bad news, and you may not want to hear it, but it’s her shit that killed Isabel. If you want to be next, then that’s on you, partner.”
Matthew knew the Mexican superstition. He learned it from Isabel, and truth be told, he saw the same owl his partner mentioned because it sat on the roof of his car as Temper sat in it alone as they decided their next move.
“Can you just tell me if you ran the staff information at the museum like I asked you? And you’re done with this case.”
“Yeah, and drama like usual. Temper’s son, Truth Charles, is a cook there and has been for the past year. Always on time, never a problem, and he’s never missed a day, but I wouldn’t be foolish enough to call it a coincidence.”
“Thank you, brother. I will see you soon,” Matthew said, walking into the museum.
“I pray that’s true.”
His partner hung up as Matthew walked into the security office for help lo
cating Temper’s office.
“I can do you one better. I’ll take you there. I hate walking by that exhibit by myself anyways.” He chuckled. “Those stuffed owls give me the creeps.”
“There’s an owl exhibit by Temper’s office? I don’t recall seeing it.”
“Yeah, you can’t miss it. In my opinion, it’s creepier than that snake exhibit across from it. Are you sure you’ve been to her office before? You can’t miss it. And to think she’s the one who requested the exhibit be placed there.”
“No, I came in through the kitchen the first time. Hey, can you do me a favor? Tell Temper I solved and closed the case I came into town to work. My job in Los Angeles is done.”
Matthew smiled at the guard as he assured him he would pass Temper the message. He walked out of the museum, mentally preparing for his four-hour drive home to Nevada. Temper’s fate was in her own hands.
Chapter Fourteen
Hollywood directors with years of experience would need to take notes after seeing how perfectly Bridget had set the stage with no time to plan it out. She wasn’t expecting Temper to be at the museum when she asked her grandson to sneak her in, but she hadn’t expected him to betray her for Temper, either. Bridget didn’t know where her husband went after killing Tyger until her grandson called her crying hysterically. If it weren’t for eavesdropping on his conversation with Temper, she wouldn’t have known what her late husband had told him. However, with the little time she did have, taking them to the cemetery was the perfect place to turn this drama into a tragedy.
Bridget loved Truth as if he were her flesh and blood because Kei’Lani had. To watch her daughter play mother to a child born to the woman who transformed her from healthy to handicapped broke her heart. To think the night would end with her killing him turned her stomach, but she wasn’t left with a choice. Her husband had told him too much.
When Bridget first learned of the child, she wondered if it was indeed Khasema’s baby or if he was taking the rap for her husband. She knew about his affair with the little Asian girl she hated whom her daughter became friends with, not because the streets were talking, but because Keith was.
“Do you hear yourself? You walked into our home and announced that you plan to leave our daughter and me to be with her best friend. She’s sixteen. What, are you high? Because you can’t be this sick,” Bridget yelled at Keith as he showered.
“You asked me where I’ve been sleeping the last few nights and who I’m fucking, so I told you. If you were half the woman she was at sixteen, we wouldn’t be having the conversation. It would be your pussy I just got out of.”
Bridget couldn’t snatch the shower curtain down from its rail fast enough. Usually when they got into it, Kei’Lani was home, and she would have to watch her tone and actions or put it off until she left, but knowing their daughter, she was probably out there praising Temper too. Keith was naked, covered in soap, and to say he claimed he had just gotten out of another woman’s pussy, his dick was fully erect. With nothing else to grab, she stuck her nails in that.
“You think you can just stand in my face and tell me you just fucked another bitch?”
Keith screamed in horror as she dug her nails deeper into his manhood, before slapping her as hard as he could in the face. She hit the floor.
“You asked. I answered. I’m not trying to disrespect you. I’m in love, and she’s carrying my baby. I know I can’t have two families, so I made my decision. I’m rolling with her and taking Kei-Kei with me.” He stepped out of the water and grabbed his towel. The water mixed with the soap had his fresh cuts feeling like they had been filled with salt. He wrapped nothing but his meat as the water from his body dripped on her. “We are from two different worlds, Bridget. I love you, I do, but you ain’t never respected or accepted my hood. I’m Big Keith out in these streets, and Temper doesn’t ever let me forget it. She knows how to treat a thug and how to respect the turf.”
“You have smoked your whole damn mind away. I’m sure of it. She’s a fucking minor, stupid, your only daughter’s best friend, and you got her pregnant? You think you can hide behind the power of that blue flag forever, don’t you?”
“The flag don’t make the man!”
“What’s that, more of your sick philosophy? I don’t believe that any of the men—and I’m not talking about those little boys who ride your khakis, but the real men from your hood—would allow this, and I’m going to take it straight to them and see. There’s a bunch of them who are fathers with daughters, and I know they ain’t havin’ this sick shit in their hood.”
“Shut up, bitch. How are you speaking about gang life when you hate it? You don’t know shit.”
“I don’t have to because I know being a man comes before anything, and I’ve been around your homeboys enough to know your hood is full of them. There are two I always thought were pretending to be boys, and now I know you are the third. I hope the niggas beat yo’ pedophile ass.”
He reached back and locked on her neck. “You’re not going to tell my homies shit. I tried to tell you the truth, but I knew you wouldn’t understand.” He threw his hands up, walking into their bedroom.
“How in the fuck did you expect me to understand that you’re not only cheating on me and have a baby on the way, but you’re a child molester, too?”
Keith grabbed his clothes out of the drawer and was out of the house before she could get off the bathroom floor. She wasn’t even sure if he was dressed before he left.
He had come clean, but all of it was in vain, because when he pulled up on Temper the next day, she had just come back from the abortion clinic, sick and in pain. He could have killed Khasema for taking her, but he understood why. Bridget had come by his house that morning with the abortion money and the threat that she’d have him arrested for the rape of a minor if it wasn’t done before sunset. She also told him that if he didn’t convince Keith to keep his family together until Kei’Lani turned 18, she’d lie and say he’d hit her to get his probation violated. She knew it wouldn’t just get him disciplined. He’d be put out of the gang. Keith never knew how Bridget learned the rules, but he knew to take her seriously if she took the time to research them. That type of shit was in his bylaws. He couldn’t talk himself out of those consequences.
Things seemed to look up from there. Keith was back at home and refused to hang out with his homies. He put his wife first, and they built a stronger bond. It wasn’t a surprise to either of them that she was pregnant with their second child after almost eighteen years. When Keith got the news he was about to be a father again, he became her shadow, even protecting her while working until his job sent him on the road again. The distance was hard on them both, more so on Bridget than Keith, and when she got the call that Kei’Lani was in the hospital having back-to-back seizures, the stress had her placed three floors above her daughter in labor and delivery. She miscarried as Temper’s name rang in her ears again.
Whenever she thought she’d get a break from hearing the girl’s name, it came again, but this time it was through the young man who went out of his way to keep her family together and protect her husband. Temper had gotten him his third strike for the same charges she told her husband a little over a year earlier that the girl would get him. It was time to avenge everything, and this time, her husband agreed. Khasema was his son more than his little homie, and seeing that the bitch who broke his own heart did his boy in, it was time to sit her down. Keith called around, and a jail hit was placed on Temper, but that was shut down, too.
When Keith learned his niece had linked up with her, he was done trying. He feared no man except for his brother, and that made Bridget sick. She reached out for more hood rules and laws and found out that Temper was living the good life in Las Vegas in the midst of it all. She had a job and was doing well, while Kei’Lani was just awakening from her medically induced coma to stop the seizures. Her daughter was gone, and all she saw now was a slow-thinking neurology patient who only lived to raise a little bo
y she hadn’t birthed. That was it, and after all these years of waiting to kill Temper, that little boy her daughter kept fighting to live for was going to make her filthy rich. It took setting her own daughter up to do it, but it was done, and now she could run off with the new love of her life. She’d get a fresh start at life before she turned 60.
“Truth, take her blindfold off.”
Truth reached down and untied the sweater that was wrapped around Temper’s face. When the light hit her eyes, she felt a foot kick her in the back. She tumbled over onto the grave.
“Grandson, let me introduce you to your family. The grave your mama is on belongs to your great-grandmother Jo. She was your mama’s granny and the woman who raised her. To the left of that is your grandmother Dorothy, the neighborhood prostitute, and your crackhead granddaddy. I think the grave says, ‘Davi.’ To the right is your great-granddaddy. No one knows much about him, and next to him is Wiggles, but she was famous. The world knew her as Shirley Blu. She was married to your crackhead uncle Troy, but last I heard, he was killed by a couple of eses, and they buried his body in the desert. You see, baby, you come from a long line of nothing-ass people, and that’s why Kei’Lani made it her duty to take you in.” She reached down and turned Temper over. “Today, you will join your mama and the rest of these lowlifes in the dirt. Get on the grave with your mama.”
Truth hesitated. He was a big guy, and although there was a gun pointing at him, he didn’t feel right submitting. He wondered, if he rushed the man holding the gun, would Temper have what it would take to run away to safety, or would he die in vain?
“There’s people out here. Are you sure you want to kill us right here?” Truth asked.
Bridget looked around, and about half a mile away was a car with two men standing next to it. It looked like they were there to pay their respects and weren’t paying them any attention.
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